Amish Sweethearts (3 page)

Lila had told him more than once that being both impulsive and stubborn was a really bad combination. And his dad had told him he wasn’t military material, but that he needed to commit to
something.
Later, after Zane had joined, his dad apologized and told him he hadn’t meant for Zane to join the Army. But both Lila and his father had been right—he needed to do
something
, far away from Lancaster County.

He’d hoped the Army would be the answer, and it had been in some ways. But it hadn’t provided the connections he’d longed for.

He slowed behind an Amish buggy, the orange caution sign bright, warning of possible harm. Zane passed when he could, glancing at the driver, but it was too dark to tell who it might be. A few minutes later he made the turn onto Juneberry Lane. The Army had calmed him down and made him more centered—out of sheer frustration. There wasn’t much he could control anymore. He’d finally had to stop fighting the system and submit to it.

Out of habit, even though it had been over two years since he’d been home, he glanced down the Lehman driveway. White sheets hung on the line, blowing in the icy wind, but that was all he could see. For all he knew Lila was behind them.

No wonder he hadn’t come home in all this time. She haunted him.

The branches of the cedar tree ahead swayed, and he got a whiff of the Lehmans’ dairy. The odor never bothered him. It smelled like home.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel even more. No one could have had a better childhood than he’d had. All those hours playing with the Lehman kids in the field, along the creek, in the
fort, and back and forth between the two houses. He thought it was normal at the time. He didn’t realize it was the next best thing to heaven. In fact, when he thought of heaven, that’s what he imagined. Playing with the Lehman kids. Thinking he had a future with Lila. Spending all their extra time outside, together.

He steered around the curve. Ahead was his parents’ house, built by his great-great-grandfather over a hundred years ago. A Christmas tree twinkled in the front window, and brightly colored bulbs framed the roofline all the way over to the brick kitchen. He hoped Dad hadn’t put up the lights. He hated the thought of his father on a ladder.

He stopped his truck next to his mom’s van and sat with the engine running for a moment until Adam stepped into view and pressed his nose to the glass.

Zane turned off his truck as Adam came flying out the front door. Zane jumped down, his arms wide open. “Bub!” he called out, using the nickname he’d given his brother as a baby, and swept him up into a hug.

Adam had gone to bed and Zane and his parents sat at the kitchen table drinking decaf. Zane could have handled the real stuff, but his parents claimed it messed with their sleep. They seemed a little older than when he’d seen them last spring.

“Why can’t you stay for Christmas?” Mom asked.

He pushed back in his chair. “I need to leave by the twenty-second.”

Mom clutched her mug with both hands. “But your grandfather is flying in that night.”

“I know,” Zane said. “But I just saw him and I told him my plan. He understands.” His grandfather had flown to Texas and taken Zane out to dinner on Thanksgiving Day. He was that kind of guy. Zane had told him he wouldn’t see him at
Christmas, and he hadn’t set him up for a guilt trip the way Mom was trying to do.

His dad cleared his throat. “Son, what’s going on?”

Zane shrugged. “I need to get back to Texas is all.” He couldn’t bear to be on Juneberry Lane on Christmas Eve. From the time he was thirteen, he and Lila used to meet at their fort after their families had all gone to bed and exchange gifts. Usually a book or a blank journal. Once he gave her a bookmark with beads on it that he’d bought at a shop in Strasburg. She said it was the prettiest thing anyone had ever given her.

His father gave his mother a questioning look, but Zane couldn’t see her response.

“Anything you need to tell us?” Dad asked and then grinned. “Did you meet someone? And you want to spend Christmas with her.”

Zane shook his head. “Nothing like that.” He’d dated a few times in the last couple of years, but he hadn’t found anyone who intrigued him. No one who challenged him. No one he cared about even a sliver as much as he’d cared for Lila.

His dad looked disappointed. “You have plenty of leave.”

Zane hesitated and then said, “We’re being mobilized. I have a lot to do to get ready.” He paused a moment, waiting for Mom to respond. When she didn’t say anything, Zane added, “We’ll deploy toward the middle of January.”

Mom stood and dumped her coffee in the sink.

“Afghanistan?” his dad finally asked.

Zane nodded. Troops were coming home from Iraq—not being sent. “I’m going with our civil affairs unit.” He’d scored high on the language section of his test when he enlisted and had been studying Pashto since he got out of basic. Then he’d completed advanced individual training and been assigned to a civil affairs unit. He’d heard one of his officers describe the unit as being like the Peace Corps, but with rifles. He liked
that idea. He was excited to use the language and to help the Afghan people with infrastructure, medical needs, and educational structures, but not so thrilled at the thought of having to fire his gun. He prayed he wouldn’t have to.

His dad’s eyes watered a little, but then he put his arm around Zane’s shoulders. “We’re proud of you.”

Zane shrugged. “You shouldn’t be. I haven’t done anything.”

“You’ve been studying hard,” his dad said. “You’re doing what you need to.”

Mom stood with her back toward him, staring out the window into the darkness.

“Mom?” he said.

“Yeah,” she answered. “I’m here.”

“And?”

She shook her head and finally turned toward him. “I don’t want to go through this again.”

Zane sighed. He knew what she was thinking. Why had he joined the Army? Why hadn’t he gone to college like he was supposed to? Would he return from Afghanistan injured and broken like his father? A rocket-propelled grenade in Iraq had hit his dad’s Humvee, and one of his soldiers had been killed. Dad’s leg—and his soul—had been pretty torn up. It took quite a while for him to recover as much as he had. He’d always walk with a cane.

“I’m sorry,” Zane said to his mom as he stood. Stepping to her he thought of the line from Milton’s Sonnet Nineteen. He recited, “‘They also serve who only stand and wait.’” Perhaps he’d taken the line out of context, but it seemed apropos. “It will be harder on you than me,” he added.

She shook her head. “It will be harder on you—I’ll just worry more.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket. “Sorry,” he said again, stepping to the doorway. It was Daniel. Who had he expected? But
then his heart began to race. Maybe Lila was calling on her brother’s phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I know this is crazy”—it was Daniel—“but my crew boss is looking for someone to help out until the weekend, and I was thinking about how much you liked construction back when we were building our fort.” He chuckled. “Would you like a job for a couple days? Just cleanup and stuff like that.”

“Maybe,” Zane replied, thinking fast. He glanced at Mom. Adam had school the rest of the week, and she was working at the hospital.

“You’d need steel-toed boots and leather gloves. And warm clothes.” Daniel paused for a moment. “What do you think?”

“Sure. Where should I meet you?”

Instead of frowning, Mom’s face lit up. He guessed she thought he was getting together with a friend.

Daniel gave Zane the address and told him to arrive by seven sharp the next morning. “See you then,” Zane said. The work would keep him from sitting around the house thinking about Lila.

Zane hung up and turned to his dad. “Do you have a pair of boots and gloves I can borrow? I’m going to work with Daniel for a couple of days.”

His dad shot Mom a look, but she just nodded. His folks were like that. Maybe they didn’t always approve of his choices, but they didn’t interfere. He appreciated it—although he wished they’d stepped in when he rushed to join the Army. Then again he hadn’t given them a chance to talk him out of it before he signed on the dotted line. It had all happened so fast.

“Hey,” Zane said, turning back toward Mom. “Don’t tell anyone about Afghanistan yet, all right? Wait until I go back.”

Mom’s eyes grew teary. “Not even Eve and Charlie?”

Zane nodded. Especially not Eve and Charlie. They were
Lila’s aunt and uncle, besides being his parents’ best friends. He didn’t want Lila coming around just because she was worried about him. That would be worse than not seeing her at all.

The next morning he met Daniel at the work site, just outside of Lancaster. The project was a three-story office building. As he shook hands with the supervisor, the man thanked him for helping out.

Daniel worked with the others to hang drywall while Zane picked up scraps of lumber, swept up sawdust and nails, and refilled the supervisor’s coffee mug from the trailer several times. By the end of the day he stepped in to help with the drywall, thankful he’d been lifting weights for the last two years. It was hard work, but he enjoyed it. He hardly thought of Lila at all.

At quitting time, the supervisor slapped him on the back. “Are you willing to come back tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Zane answered. That would be Friday. Then he’d spend the rest of his leave with his family.

“I appreciate you helping out. Daniel said you’re in the Army, but if you ever need a job, let me know.”

“Thank you,” he replied.

The next day was pretty much the same—lots of cleanup and then helping with the drywall. But at quitting time, as they were walking to their trucks in the dark, Daniel said, “I stopped by the house last night. Lila said she didn’t know you were home.”

“I haven’t had time to visit,” Zane responded, hoping his voice sounded casual.

“She said to tell you hello.” Daniel opened the door to his beater truck. “You should stop by the Plain Buffet. That’s where she’s working. She waits tables on Thursday and Saturday nights.”

Zane’s heart skipped a beat.

“It’s really good to see you,” Daniel said, shaking his hand. “It hasn’t been the same since you left.”

When Zane arrived home, Adam ran out to greet him, just as he had the day before and the day he arrived. “Simon’s here,” Adam said.

“Shouldn’t he be doing chores?”

Adam smiled. “He finished already. I helped him.”

“That’s cool.” Zane had loved helping milk the Lehmans’ dairy herd when he’d been a boy.

Adam beamed. He was smaller than Zane had been at that age, and more bookish. Zane said a silent prayer that the kid would never join the military.

Adam grabbed Zane’s hand. “How come you don’t have chickens anymore? Or a few sheep?” Zane asked.

Adam shrugged. “Mom keeps saying we’ll get more.”

“Would you like more?”

“Not really.” The boy pulled Zane up the steps. “Being around Trudy’s chickens is enough for me.”

Zane chuckled. “Are they Trudy’s now?”

Adam nodded. “Rose hates chickens.”

“What about Lila?” Her name caught in Zane’s throat.

“She has too much other stuff to do.”

Zane could imagine. The laundry. The cooking. The preserving. The shopping. And she worked too. He hoped Rose was a good helper, but unless she’d changed in the past two years she probably wasn’t.

He sighed. People did grow up.

He followed Adam into the house and hung his coat by the Christmas tree. It all seemed a little garish to Zane. His choice would have been just ornaments—no lights.

Through the doorway to the kitchen, he could see his dad and Simon at the table, but as soon as Simon saw Zane he was on his feet and hurrying into the living room. “I can’t believe
you’ve been home for two days and haven’t stopped by. I had to track you down.” He gave Zane a hug. “What does Daniel think he’s doing? Hauling you off to work with him. You should be home relaxing. With your feet up.”

Zane chuckled. “It’s good to see you too.”

Simon had grown. He was taller than Zane, and he’d filled out. He’d never be as big as his Dat, but he definitely took after that side of the family. His hair curled a little on his forehead and although he wore Amish clothes—the barn pants, the shirt, and suspenders—his hair was no longer in a bowl cut. Zane imagined that Simon would take full advantage of his Rumschpringe.